


Oh Mrs. Believer, You Pretty Weeper

by Azkaabanter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dad Steve, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, HYDRA buddies, I wrote this on a whim, Irondad, M/M, Peter is the superhusbands son, Precious Peter Parker, Superhusbands, coffee with MJ, dad tony, noone knows he’s spidey, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 04:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15283833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azkaabanter/pseuds/Azkaabanter
Summary: Why couldn’t Peter just get coffee with a friend and make it home without something bad happening to him? Usually it involved a gun, sometimes knives, but this time there are drugs, and Peter learned from his Pops’s PSAs that drugs are bad.So are gunshot wounds.





	Oh Mrs. Believer, You Pretty Weeper

 Peter’s eyes were shut tight and unblinking. The lights were too bright. The sounds were too loud. He was paralyzed, and he was most definitely in shock.

 HYDRA, it had to’ve been HYDRA. No one else would want to hurt Peter instead of Spider-Man.

 Because nobody knew they were one in the same. As far as the brunette thought he’d known, HYDRA didn’t know either, but for a genius, he wasn’t the best at seeing what was right in front of him.

 “How much did you _give_ him?” A voice stabbed through Peter’s skull and his nose scrunched up in pain.

 “Enough.”

 “Enough for what? That syringe had enough in it to knock out five Captain Americas.” Peter’s eyes fluttered at the name. Steve? Was Steve there?

 “For all we know about his genetics, he could be more powerful than even that.” The first voice replied. The teenager slowly, delicately opened his eyes, vision swimming. The light was yellow and strong, largely the source of his pounding headache. A few seconds later he recognized the background noise to be the sounds of cars speeding along nearby. His skin picked up the prickle of a warm summer wind, as well as cool water droplets from rain.

 Slowly his mind became less and less foggy, and memories came back in full force. He had been walking back to the tower from visiting some coffee shop with MJ, and had not bothered to put the suit on. The streets weren’t crowded but they certainly weren’t deserted- the sun had just set, and storm clouds had begun to roll in over the city skyline as the young Stark-Rogers strolled along, carefree. That is, until he felt a sharp prick in his neck and next thing he knew, his consciousness was dwindling and he was being manhandled into an alley by a pair of men with the well known HYDRA logo on their breast pockets. The ground in his current moment was just as hard and cold as it’d been when he was first brought down.

 The two men continued to argue, obviously oblivious to Peter regaining his consciousness. He couldn’t move anything, but his mind was screaming at him to get up and slip on his web shooters that resided in his backpack, which was thankfully still strapped to his back. That also meant his suit must’ve been there, too. How HYDRA knew his secret identity when he didn’t even tell the rest of his family, or even his dads, he didn’t know.

 “-well what does the boss want us to do with him? Kill ‘im?” The voice of one of the agents asked, and Peter stilled when his enhanced senses told him that eyes were once again trained on him.

 “No, kid could be useful. Leverage against Stark and Cap.”

 “But we don’t even know if he’s a super yet-“ Wait, these operatives injected him with drugs powerful enough to bring down _five_ Captain Americas, and didn’t even know for sure if he had powers? That was a bold risk considering that high a dose of anything could easily kill a normal person.

 “What does it matter? We struck vibration here, my friend.” Peter was gaining feeling back in his arms and hands- just enough to move them.

 “We have to be smart about this. We could brainwash him, use him as a spy-“ his legs twitched.

 “He’s a kid, Simiak. The only useful thing he could give us without powers is ransom.” His head was clear, his nerves were vibrating.

 “I think the only useful thing you two will need is a hospital.” Peter said, before getting to his feet a bit more sluggish than he’d imagined in his head. The two black-clothed operatives looked stunned at him for less than a moment each before reaching to their hips to pull small guns from hidden holsters.

 “Don’t move kid.” The first man, who had very obviously dyed bleach blonde hair ordered, gun trained on the sixteen year old. Peter almost wanted to comply with the demand, seeing how alarmingly sluggish he felt from whatever they pumped into his blood, but not acting just wasn’t in his nature. Not anymore.

 “Sorry, didn’t know we were playing freeze tag fellas.” He quickly dropped the backpack to the ground, hand unzipping the top and grabbing the shooters before it even hit the dirty pavement; obviously he wouldn’t have time to suit up. He jumped to the side and stuck to a wall as the other man, a buff redhead with god-awful glasses took a shot that passed through right where he had been standing. Though the brick was wet from the now steady rain, lightning illuminated the lean vigilante as he crawled almost daintily up the wall, dodging bullets whilst he put on his web shooters.

 “Give me a second!” He quipped, a bullet from the blonde hitting the wall a little too close to him for comfort. “I’d say you’re cheating.” Peter heard light chuckling as the ammo canisters were refilled.

 “Is this kid serious?” One of them asked the other, but the hero could hear it easily thanks to his dialed-up-to-eleven senses.

 “He was never my favorite. I’m more of a James fan myself.” He said, though his brain was slow on the uptake.

 Peter quickly activated his webshooter and aimed at the redhead, trying to disarm him but the man turned at the last second to just get a web on the elbow.

 “Okay so baddie number two isn’t a fan of Harry Potter-“ Peter said, shooting another web at him which attaches to his forearm. “noted.” Mr. HYDRA man used the extra web to try and pull the vigilante from the wall. The teen cursed under his breath but used the mistake to his advantage; pulling the man up before letting him drop to the ground, knocking his head against the pavement. The brunette cringed as he webbed the agent to the ground, rain matting his curls to his forehead.

 Quick as he could, Peter turned sideways to the blonde, who had a crazed smile on his face and his gun pointed at his temple, instead of the Spider. The vigilante froze.

 “Hey, buddy. I know you work for a ton of shit heads, but we both know that’s not the answer.” Peter said slowly, hands up. No matter what this man did, he didn’t deserve to die at his own hand because of a two second long fight with a sixteen year old. The man however, solely proceeded to laugh.

 “A single life is expendable in the big picture. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” The man’s eyes flicked behind Peter for a split second before refocusing on him. “Heil HYDRA.” He said, before two guns went off, as well as an explosion in the back of Peter’s head.

 At the same moment the HYDRA agent in front of him dropped to the ground as a lifeless corpse, his partner who Peter never got around to disarming before webbing him to the ground fired a shot at the young vigilante, then into his own head. Suicide was a better option than returning to HYDRA empty-handed.

 Peter screamed as the bullet entered his left side, just under his ribcage. It almost made it in and out, but stopped a few centimeters shy of exiting the boy’s back. His breath caught after the initial shriek  of pain, and he immediately started to see black spots in his vision, and swayed on his feet. This was bad. Extremely, extremely bad.

 He put a hand on the wall of the alley to steady himself, but his knees were already growing weak beneath him. The agents were dead. They had tried to kidnap him for ransom, but failed because their drug to knock him out wasn’t strong enough. And now he had a bullet lodged in his stomach and no way to get medical help because if he went to a normal hospital, they’d ask for his parents names ( _if they didn’t know already because his dads are Tony Stark and Steve Rogers.)_ or they would know him already. Plus, there would be no way that they wouldn’t notice his accelerated healing.

 On the other hand, he wouldn’t be able to go to the tower because his dads would be scared shitless and want to know what happened. Then they’d test his blood and find a deadly concentration of whatever he was injected with because there would be no way that even his super-metabolism could burn through that much that fast. They’d also question his healing factor, then they’d realize and he’d never be able to be Spider-Man again.

 He started to hyperventilate.

 He wouldn’t be able to be Spider-Man again if he was dead, either.

 Peter looked around himself, pointedly avoiding the two bodies strewn around him, until he locked onto his discarded backpack. Suddenly, a plan started to form in his blood lacking, drug-clogged brain and he took a step away from the wall, fighting the intense vertigo and using a foot to pick up his bag so he wouldn’t have to bend over and make the wound gush more blood. He dug through the old canvas backpack until he finally had what he was looking for in his grasp; his Spidey suit.

 “Come on, Spider-Man.” Peter hyped himself up as the pain of moving to put the suit on became almost unbearable. When he pressed the button on his chest to make the suit conform to his body, he screamed when it clamped down on the wound. After putting on the mask, the vigilante looked down to see a large, wet, crimson stain emanating from the contusion. It was a moment like that when he really wished he had an AI like FRIDAY in his suit to comfort him.

 To keep his mind off the enormous pain while he slowly swung the five blocks to the tower, suit soaked by rain and blood, and thunder crackling in his ears, he thought of possible names for his nonexistent AI. Maybe something cool, like the _Millenium Falcon._

 He almost let go of his web mid swing.

 No, too long. Maybe… _Spock_?

 Peter almost passed out scaling the side of a building, his Dad’s voice in his head and Pops’s blonde hair pictured in his mind’s eye.

 Nah, he never was as much of a _Star Trek_ fan. He thought for a moment until it hit him when his vision was clouding and the big ‘ _A_ ’ on the side of the tower was in view.

 _Karen_ , like from _Spongebob_.

 He grinned at his own cleverness when, with unfocused eyes, he kicked climbed up the glass siding and kicked open a random window, which he knew would set off intruder alarms. They sounded muffled in the teenager’s ears, as did the sound of cautious footsteps entering the common room. As he blacked out, all Peter could pray for was that they would keep the mask on.

* * *

 “Peter?” Tony shot upright at the sound of an alarm going off in his and Steve’s room, thinking it was the alarm for when his son had a night-terror. The blonde man beside him was already standing, shield on his shirtless arm, and only flannel pajama pants on his legs.

 “It seems that there is an intruder, sir.” FRIDAY’s voice said calmly, making Tony bolt out of bed and put on his gauntlet watch and glasses, walking to Steve’s side as his husband opened the door and padded into the hallway, joined by Bucky, Nat, and Bruce. The others were in different halls.

 The Avengers exchanged silent glances before proceeding to the common room, guns, repulsors, and shields raised. Tony resisted the urge to check on Peter, but he had FRIDAY automatically lock Peter’s door in the event of a break-in that happened in any room other than his own. He’d be safe.

 “How did someone manage to break in on the fiftieth floor?” Steve whispered into his ear, and the genius shrugged in response.

“Don’t ask me, I didn’t design the place.” Steve looked at him questioningly.

“Yes you did-“

 “Joke, that was a joke, sweetheart. Now can we focus?” Steve nodded bashfully. Even in the event of a high-risk break in, Steve was still Steve.

 The group reached the common room and flicked on the lights, not caring about stealth. They fanned out along the perimeter, surveying the scene. There was a broken window, letting the summer rain in, and more disturbingly-

 “Holy shit-“ Bucky said, and Tony was inclined to agree. There, lying in a pool of his own blood seemingly unconscious, was the Queens vigilante himself, Spider-Man.

 “Get him to the med-bay, now.” Bruce said sternly, then proceeded to run to the elevator to prep for a procedure. Steve stepped forward and gingerly flipped the hero onto his back, Bucky and Nat standing over his shoulder as backup in case the smaller man was faking as a trap. Tony stepped closer as well, and what he saw did not look good. Most of the front and left side of the suit was a dark crimson, and whatever wound it was must’ve still been bleeding seeing as there was a huge puddle of blood beneath the masked hero.

 Steve scooped him up as gently as possible and turned to run to the elevator before the body in his hand jerked, back arching.

 “Do-don’t ta-take off the, the m-mask.” The vigilante panted, voice tight with pain before falling limp again.

 “Hurry up!” Tony goaded after Steve stood still for a few moments.

 “Right.” The supersoldier replied, sprinting to the stairs with ease and taking them two at a time until he reached the med-bay’s doors. The small group found Bruce already prepped for whatever contingency.

The hero looked small and young on the silver operating table- it made Tony think of Peter. Bruce began peeing away the soaked spandex uniform top, and exposed what looked like a very fresh, very bloody, very bad looking bullet hole in the boy’s side. And Tony said _boy_ with certainly, because the state of the skin of his torso screamed youth to the older man. When Bruce moved to take off the mask, Steve put out a hand to stop him.

 “He asked us not to take off the mask.” The blonde said softly, and Bruce nodded before getting to work fishing out the bullet, taking blood and putting it through testing, hooking the boy up to an IV to restore fluids, and giving him blood. While the others returned upstairs to await further news, Tony and Steve stayed downstairs, watching Bruce stitch and patch him up. They didn’t know what they felt so compelled to be there for the young man- they just did. Tony suspected it was because of Peter.

 “Done.” Bruce said as he tied off the last stitch and wiped his brow. “He’s lucky he made it in time. Another few minutes and he would be a goner, even with enhanced healing.” Steve raised a brow.

 “How enhanced are we talking?” He asked while Bruce busied himself cleaning up the blood on his patient’s chest and stomach, and finally dressing the wound in white gauze.

 “Probably at least twice as much as you.” Tony coughed.

 “How is that-“

 “I don’t know.” The scientist finished, still not looking at the couple as he took off his gloves and scrubs.

“FRIDAY, alert me when he wakes up.” Tony said, and received a soft ping in response seconds later. Bruce said his goodnights and went back upstairs to his room, as did Steve and Tony a few minutes later. They had just been studying the boy, watching the peaceful rise and fall of his chest in steady breaths, and ignored their impulses to remove the red and black mask and see the face underneath.

“Sir, Spider-Man is up and moving.” FRIDAY’s voice jolted Tony awake yet again hours later, and he get got up with a groan, Steve accompanying him.

“I’m sure ready to hear _this_ story.” Tony said sarcastically to Steve as they made their back to the med-bay. Steve snorted in response, and pressed a chaste kiss to his husband’s prickly cheek.

“I think we all are.” When they reached the room, however, they found it empty.

 “Great.” Tony said, raising his arms. “We lost the itsy bitsy spider.” Steve smiled and picked up a piece of paper that was left on the bed.

“At least he left a note.” The blonde said, then proceeded to read it aloud. “Dear Avengers, thanks for saving my life, it was really nice of you. Also, thanks for not taking off my mask. You rock, from Spidey.” He looked at it for a bit longer, strolling to the stairs with Tony in his wake. “Well, I guess that’s that.” He said, walking out of the staircase and into the common room, making it a point to steer clear of the broken window which now had dull sunshine flowing through.

“-Peter what the hell?!” A loud crash sounded from the kitchen along with Clint’s voice. The couple looked at each other before speed walking into the kitchen to find Peter with a scared look on his face and Clint with a broken bowl at his feel, jaw dropped.

 “Wh-what?” The brown-haired kid asked, arms wrapped around his middle.

 “What’s going on?” Tony asked, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder.

 “Peter, show them.” Cling said, taking a step forward. The boy just evaded his eyes and set them outside the window. “Peter. Stark.” He demanded. Tony was secretly a bit surprised to hear the serious tone from the usual joker of an assassin.

 “Woah, hold on a second.” Steve said, addressing Clint. “Show us what?” The archer could only make spastic arm movements in Peter’s general direction as a reply. Tony looked down at Peter, who seemed to get guiltier by the second.

“You know we’re all going to find out whatever you’re hiding at some point. Might as well be under your terms.” Peter sighed.

“Fine. Just, don’t… freak out, okay?” He requested. Tony nodded in agreement, but judging from Clint’s reaction to whatever it was, the news wasn’t going to be good. His son took a deep breath and gripped the hem of his t-shirt, and winced as he pulled it over his head, revealing white gauze in the exact place Bruce put it on Spider-Man last night. Both Tony’s and Steve’s jaws dropped. “So much for keeping the mask on…” he grumbled.

 “Peter Stark-Rogers-“ Steve started, but Peter waved him off with a sigh.

 “I know, I’m grounded.”

 “You bet your wall-climbing ass you are!”

**Author's Note:**

> This probably sucks but I felt like writing something that wasn’t for my BigBang fic. So... I’m a comment whore :)


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